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“Yeah, listen, I’m sorry for losing my cool and pushing you,” Bosch said. “And throwing your phone. It was just a tense situation, you know?” “No, man, it was cool,” Sisto said. “You were right. I don’t want to be a fuckup, Harry. I want to be a good detective like you.” Bosch nodded his thanks for the compliment.
Bosch had never worked with Corvalis previously but knew of him by reputation—his nickname in the courthouse was “The Undefeated” because he had never lost a case.
“That was quick,” Bosch said. “You just breezed into the courthouse and they let you look at the probate file?” “Actually, I breezed in on the Internet,” Haller said. “All case filings are updated online within twenty-four hours. The wonder of technology. Not sure my office needs to be in a car anymore. They’ve closed half the courthouses in L.A. County because of budget cutbacks, and most of the time the Internet gets me where I need to go.”
He saw the structure wrapped in scaffolding and entered through a side entrance where several construction workers were sitting on stacks of drywall during a break. One of them told Bosch he was in a hard-hat area as he passed. “I know,” he said.